Refugees
by Michael2
Summary: Colin meets refugees from Earth Prime-COMPLETE
1. Sliders by Ben Conrad

I felt the bus come to a stop next to a shopping center in San Jose, California. I stepped off on to the sidewalk and I looked around. Across the parking lot was my destination-the Borders bookstore.  
  
I had spent a few days on this world. The native Quinn was unable to help me, so I got a job to support myself until I would slide out. During my free time I went about learning more about the world where I would be living in for a while.   
  
I came across a novel, written by a man named Ben Conrad. The title stood out.  
  
It was called Sliders.  
  
The protagonist, whose name was Jerry, invented a machine that could generate a wormhole. He, a woman named Sabrina, and a professor named Arthur Maxwell all jumped in. A singer named Derek also drove in accidentally. Something went wrong, and now they slide randomly from universe to universe.  
  
I knew in my heart this could not be a coincidence caused by quantum interference. The story was too similar to what my brother Quinn told me in the year-and-a half that I had known him.  
  
I went to the Internet to learn more about this. Sliders was a series of novels, all based on the adventures of Jerry, Sabrina, Arthur, and Derek. This was the first work by Ben Conrad. After doing more Internet serching, it turned out that Ben Conrad was going to sign books at Borders in San Jose. So I collected my money and took a little bus ride all the way from Daly City to San Jose.   
  
I entered through the glass doors of the building. And it was a huge bookstore, with two floors with plenty of bookcases and books. I saw a book by some guy named Larry Elder on a display in the front along with other new releases. There were also books titled Harry Potter, which was apparently a serial novel like Sliders.   
  
I saw a crowd of people in the cafe section of the Borders store. They must be there to greet this author Ben Conrad.  
  
I stood in line behind all sorts of people, who all have a common interest in the Sliders novels. They all left the line as they received their book. After a few minutes, it was my turn.  
  
I looked at the fellow, who had brown dreadlocks covering his ears and was dressed in flannel clothesd. I recognized him, for I had a few encounters with his other incarnations.  
  
"You're Conrad Bennish," I said. "That's your real name, isn't it?"  
  
There was a look of surprise on his face. "Well, if you say so," he said.  
  
"I read your novels. They're based on real people. I know that Jerry stands for Quinn Mallory. Sabrina stands for Wade Welles. Arthur Maxwell stands for Maximilian Arturo. And Derek stands for Rembrandt Brown."  
  
He sat there silent for a minute. Then he said, "I couldn't use their real names."  
  
"My name is Colin Mallory. I'm Quinn's brother. I'm a slider just like he is. And I need your help."  
  
"Sit tight," he said. "I'll talk to you later."  
  
So I did. And I waited as Conrad signed more and more books, until the book-signing tour was over.  
  
"Let's talk, Colin," he said. "But not here."  
  
We decided to sit at the outdoor patio of a brewery. We all got brewery-made beers to drink.   
  
"This is Jewel," said Conrad, referring to a young woman with shoulder-length blond hair.   
  
"Hi," I said.  
  
"Nice to meet you," said Jewel.  
  
"Conrad," I said, "the story you wrote is similar to my experience with Quinn. In September of 1994, he opened a wormhole while researching anti-gravity. He, Wade Welles, Rembrandt Brown, and Maximilian Arturo went in. They did not come back. Quinn was a grad student. Maximilian Arturo was his professor."  
  
"Quinn did not have a brother," said Conrad.  
  
"He did not know about it until he returned to Rembrandt's home world. It had been conquered by some people called kromaggs who came from another version of Earth. He learned he was from the same world the kromaggs came from, and that he had a brother. I met Quinn almost two years ago."  
  
"So where is he?"  
  
"I got separated from him last June. I know why you are here, Conrad. The kromaggs were overrunning America, so you escaped to here."  
  
"I'd like you to meet some people," said Conrad.   
  
I was riding in the back seat of Conrad's sport utility vehicle, a DeLorean Cougar. We here headed north on Interstate 880.   
  
Conrad exited in the city of Walnut Creek and then headed east towards the hills separating the San Francisco Bay basin from the Central Valley. He got onto a dirt road, past a sign reading, "Private Property. No Trespassing."  
  
Conrad parked the Cougar and shut off the engine. I saw our destination-a big house.  
  
"This is where we live," said Conrad. "We decided to stick together."  
  
He went out the front door and unlocked it. We went inside to what appeared to be the front hall. There was a huge staircase in the center which led to the upper floors.  
  
"Who's the visitor?" asked a female voice which sounded familiar.  
  
I looked and my eyes confirmed what my ears have heard.   
  
I was looking at Maggie Beckett!  
  
"Maggie!" I shouted, greeting her with a hug. "I'm glad you're here. Where's Quinn and Remmy?"  
  
"Who are you?" she asked.  
  
"It's me Colin! you know, Quinn's brother."  
  
"Quinn didn't have a brother."  
  
"I spoke with him, Maggie," said Conrad. "I think we should all meet him."  
  
So that's what we did.  
  
I met with the people living in this commune east of Walnut Creek. Aside from Conrad and Maggie and Jewel, I was introduced to Alexander Hunt, Angus Rickman, Wing, Diana Davis, Steven Jensen, and Vladimir Jariabek.  
  
"So tell us your story," said Maggie.  
  
So I did. I told her how I met Quinn, Rembrandt, and another version of her. I told them that Rembrandt returned, and soon after, the U.S. was attacked by the Kromagg Dynasty. I told them that I had become separated from Quinn, and now I slide randomly from universe to universe without a timer.  
  
Maggie looked at her companions. "I think it is time we told Colin Mallory here about where we are from," she said.   
  
"Okay," I asked.  
  
"In January of 1995 I was promoted to captain in the U.S. Marine Corps. Afterward, I met with General Hunt and Colonel Rickman and the Joint Chiefs. They told me that four people disappeared in San Francisco. Conrad Bennish, Jr. here told them about the sliding generator. After preliminary interviews, President Clinton decided to continue the research. In March of 1995, Congress passed a bill authorizing the expenditure into sliding research, and placed the research under the control of the U.S. Marine Corps. A research facility was set up at Yerba Buena Island in the San Francisco Bay, and I was assigned there. Bennish and a fellow classmate Wing were hired, along with Drs. Davis, Jariabek, and Jensen. We studied the wormhole for over a year before we sent a human through."  
  
"And that was you," I said. "You were the first to slide from there since my brother's experiment."  
  
"Yes, I was," said Maggie. "I was the first to go. I came back fifteen minutes later. We sent Marines to scout the new worlds even as the researchers studied the nature of these wormholes. We even tracked some of the worlds where Quinn Mallory and his friends went to.   
  
"It was on February 6, 1997 that the lab received a call from Elizabeth Mallory, who is Quinn's mother. She told us that Quinn and an unidentified woman came back, but the woman had to be brought to a hospital. Quinn later slid out. Three months later, on May 13, Mrs. Mallory told us that Rembrandt and Wade came back. Colonel Rickman and I visited them at the Mallory residence the next day. They seemed to recognize me, and they also seemed to have a problem with Rickman. I brought them to the base where I asked them about their travels as well as their personal lives. They told me that they had been sliding from universe to universe, just as the researchers predicted. They also told me that another version of me had joined them in February, and she was the one who was brought to the hospital. They also told me that Professor Maximilian Arturo had been killed-by another version of Colonel Angus Rickman no less."  
  
"Well, that explained the initial hostility towards me," said Rickman.  
  
"We gave them full access to the facility. After two weeks, they decided to move to Los Angeles to renew their lives on Earth Prime. I kept in touch with them. They told me if Quinn and my double made their way here, they would contact me."  
  
"Rembrandt told me that he met his world's version of Maggie Beckett," I said.   
  
"Well, as I said," said Maggie, "I kept in touch with them. I even visited them sometime in June. I told them to keep up hope; that Quinn will come back. They even told me more about the Maggie Beckett they have known for three months. Then the fate of the whole world changed on Friday, July 11, 1997; a day even more infamous than the attack on Pearl Harbor.  
  
"I was having a few drinks in a San Francisco bar that Friday night when a special report came on the news. An Army general named Shinseki came on TV and announced that Washington had just been attacked. There was no word on the number of casualties, or even if the President had survived. Even though I was drunk, I immediately got into my car and headed over to Yerba Buena. I had the radio on. there was all sorts of emergency announcements. Governor Pete Wilson mobilized the entire California National Guard. Every police department, sheriff's department, and law enforcement agency was on full tactical alert. Over the next few days, the bombings continued. Treasury Secretary Rob Rubin was sworn in as acting President of the United States in an undisclosed location. After two weeks of bombings, the enemy was finally sighted.  
  
"They were aliens. The Army and Marines tried to drive them back, but they were defeated. They took Los Angeles and then San Francisco. From news reports we heard that the aliens were overrunning America. We hid in an underground bunker in Yerba Buena. We received no word from the chain of command, and our supplies were running low. Soon July 29, 1997 we decided to evacuate Earth Prime, and hide out here."  
  
"Why here?" I asked.  
  
"The history here is very similar to Earth Prime, with a few minor differences. We wanted to live somewhere where we could adapt easily."  
  
"Did you ever try to go back?" I asked. "Maybe the kromaggs were defeated."  
  
"No, we haven't," said Maggie. "How much do you know about these kromaggs?"  
  
"They are a species of people that originate from some versions of Earth," I said. "I was born on a world which was shared by humans and kromaggs. Around the time I was born, the kromaggs started a war to conquer the world. The U.S. developed a weapon that succeeded in driving them from our world. A slidecage was later developed to prevent any intrusions from another dimension. The kromaggs started conquering other worlds, including your home world.  
  
"I think Quinn, Rembrandt, and your counterpart are still alive. Wade was captured by the kromaggs and sent to a prison camp on another Earth."  
  
"Well," said Alexander Hunt, "I suggest we eat."  
  
We had roast chicken for dinner. I spoke with the others and leanred more about them.  
  
"So you defected from the Soviets?" I asked Dr. Jariabek.  
  
"Yes," he said. "I came to work in their physics program, and I worked onsliding research from 1995 to 1997."  
  
"Have you checked into the lives of your duplicates from this Earth?" I asked everyone. "I mean, it's not a good idea to get mixed up in their lives."  
  
"My duplicate is dead," said Maggie. "She was a Marine pilot like me. I learned she caught an air-to-air missile during the Gulf War back in '91. I remember how I had a near miss with a missile when I flew in the Gulf War. I guess she was not as lucky."  
  
"Listen," said Conrad after dinner was over, "you can spend the night if you like. They let Jewel spend the night with me."  
  
"I have work tomorrow at 10 AM," I said. I went to the common living room. There was a Toshiba television and a Zenith stereo system. I saw a Time magazine with President Sam Nunn on the cover, and I saw a People magazine with Jenna von Oy on the cover. I decided to turn on the television to learn more about the news.  
  
"So Senator," said Bill O' Reilly, "you think that the time has come to invade Iraq?"  
  
"Yes," said Senator Dan Lungren, who was the guest on that news show. "Saddam Hussein has been violating the ceasefire for nine years. Getting his regime to comply with the ceasefire terms has been a priority under the Dole and Nunn administrations. It is clear after nine years that he is not going to comply, ever."  
  
"There are quite a few Republicans who oppose the war."  
  
"I understand the reason, Bill. In war, people get killed-some of them who have done nothing wrong. When we invade, Americans will die, and Iraqis who have done nothing wrong will die.  
  
"And yet we can not appease people like Saddam Hussein. He launched an invasion of Kuwait and he signed a ceasefire to avoid invasion, and for the past nine years he had openly violated the ceasefire. There has never been a case where a criminal on parole openly violated parole for nine years without being arrested. The ceasefire was broken almost nine years ago. We imposed sanctions, we bombed his military, and he has not come to the table to renew the ceasefire. So now we must take him down."  
  
"And yet you are running for the Republican nomination hoping to unseat President Nunn."  
  
"I've disagreed with Sam Nunn sometimes, many times," said Dan Lungren, "and I am quite vocal when I do so. But what we need to remember is that Sam Nunn is not the enemy; Saddam Hussein is the enemy."  
  
"Once again, that was Senator Dan Lungren," said Bill O' Reilly, "Republican from California, running for the nomination for President."  
  
I had asked for a book on the history of Earth Prime; apparently they had time to pack sauch things when they evacuated. I wanted to compare the history of Earth Prime with the history of the Earth where these refugees settled.  
  
The histories were similar. It was on the small scale that I noticed the differences.   
  
On this world, General George Washington was killed during the Revolutionary War. On Earth Prime, George Washington went on to be first President of the United States.  
  
On this world, Hannibal Hamlin succeeded Abraham Lincoln in 1865 following the end of the American Civil War. On Earth Prime, Andrew Johnson was Lincoln's successor.  
  
On this world, Franklin Roosevelt ordered the atomic bombing of Germany in 1945. On Earth Prime, Harry Truman ordered the atomic bombing of Japan in 1945.   
  
On this world, President Richard M. Nixon was assasinated in 1973. On Earth Prime, President John F. Kennedy was assassinated in 1963.  
  
On this world, President Bob Dole was elected in 1988 and re-elected in 1992, while President Sam Nunn was elected in 1996. On Earth Prime, President George Bush was elected in 1988 and was defeated by President Bill Clinton in 1992. Bill Clinton was President on July 11, 1997 when the kromaggs attacked. there were minor differences in history, far too many to count.  
  
Conrad took me to the basement. I saw all sorts of equipment.  
  
"We built a sliding generator here," said Conrad. "We set it up back in 1997, before we evacuated here. This was one of the worlds we were monitoring, so we set up a base of operations here. We never dreamed this would be our refuge."  
  
"You ever slide to other worlds from here?" I asked.  
  
"Only to safe worlds," said Conrad. "We keep a log of every world we visit on this computer."  
  
I went to sleep in a guest room. It was simple with a bed and a lamp. It was then I contacted him.  
  
For over half a year a man from another version of Earth has been contacting me in my dreams.  
  
"Hello, Colin," he said.  
  
"Hi," I replied. "So, are these people from the same world my brother grew up in?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Are they all right?"  
  
"Yes, they are. You still have a long way ahead of you before you meet them. There is still so much for you to do. But do not lose faith. You will meet them when the time is right."  
  
"I'm glad you're watching over me." 


	2. Under Arrest

The next morning, I had a simple breakfast-scrambled eggs and corn flakes and Minute Maid orange juice. I then had to go to work. Maggie Beckett offered me a ride in her Ford Crown Victoria.  
  
"I work there too, under my real name," she said as we headed west on Interstate 80 near Oakland.  
  
"Your duplicate here must have had a family," I said.  
  
"Thomas Beckett, my father's counterpart, lives in upstate New York. He had actually served as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff during Bob Dole's term as President before his retirement in 1995. I only visited my duplicate's grave once, and I had to wear a disguise in case her dad or any of her relatives showed up. I actually feel for him."  
  
"What about your father? Did you hear about how he was doing before the kromagg attack?"  
  
"He was assigned to Leavenworth."  
  
"What was he doing there?"  
  
"He was an inmate." Maggie slowed the Crown Victoria down for the toll booth just before the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge. "Back in 1988, he was a lieutenant general assigned to Marine Headquarters in the Pentagon. He got caught in some corruption probe involving a defense contractor. The commandant had him court-martialed. He was convicted and sentenced to serve a twelve-year term at the U.S. Disciplinary Barracks in Leavenworth."  
  
I could tell Maggie was uncomfroatble about talking about her father. "Did you visit him?"  
  
"Only once, back in 1995, after I had been assigned to Yerba Buena. I didn't say much to him. It was hard; I was still ashamed. I mean, it's a major embarassment for a Marine captain to be the daughter of a former general who has been stripped of his rank and spends half of the time in a small cell in Leavenworth. I don't even know if he's alive now." Maggie presented her FastTrak pass, and then drove across the bridge. "What was this other Maggie you were with like? Mr. Brown and Miss Welles told me about her; I'd like to hear your version."  
  
"She was a strong woman," I said. "She was widowed when I met her. We once actually had a run-in with another version of her dead husband. After that, she did not seem so bitter about her husband's death."  
  
"They told me that her husband was Steve; the Steve Jensen who came to work for us as a consultant researcher. He was the one who came up with the system for tracking the wormholes. Three weeks after the system was in place, I took the plunge."  
  
"Did you look at him differently when you leanred that another version of you was married to another version of him?"  
  
"Well, I considered it," she said, laughing. "There are trillions of possibilities. I may end up with Steve; I may end up with someone else."  
  
"So what is your job?" I asked.  
  
"I'm a daytime cocktail waitress. I don't get paid much, but then I can't have a high profile job. I certainly can't go back to the Marines. I look exactly like a woman who was killed in the Gulf War; I could be arrested for desertion. Have you been accused of a crime that your duplicate did?"  
  
"More than once," I said. "Last October, I was sent to a federal prison because my duplicate tried to kill the King of America."  
  
We reached the end of the bridge and the end of Interstate 80 where it connects with the Bayshore Freeway (US 101). We got off on Van Ness Avenue and then Maggie dropped me off.  
  
"You have an apartment in Daly City, right?" she asked.  
  
"It's not much, but it does."  
  
"Come have dinner with us tonight."  
  
"I'll buy," I said. "I mean, it's unlikely I can take the money with me when I slide out. I might as well spend it all."  
  
I then went to the place where I got a job since my arrival. It was a sports bar, and I was assigned to tend bar and clean stuff in exchange for a low wage, which was the kind of wages I've earned since my journey through the multiverse. I spoke to the owner who always opens up, a middle-aged Chinese man.  
  
"Hello, Colin," he said with an accent. "On time as usual."  
  
"Well, I won't be here long; but I'll make the best of it, sir."  
  
And so I started by wiping the tables. Then I mopped the floor and cleaned the restrooms. After that, I waited for the patrons to come in.   
  
My shift was about eight hours. I noticed that half of the patrons were Chinese, most of the rest were white, and one or two were Negroes or Mexicans. My only other co-worker was this Mexican lady who came in at 2; she spoke very little English. The Chinese fellows were good tippers, so at least I could afford to buy food so I could have dinner with Maggie and Conrad and the rest.  
  
After my shift was over, it was dark. I took the BART train to Walnut Creek and soon I entered the house where the refugees were staying.  
  
"Where's the food?" asked Wing.  
  
"I don't have a car," I said. "But I know I can order take out."  
  
I decided to order food from two places. After that, all of us waited.  
  
Then the doorbell rang. A delivery boy from Albertson's had come with the rotisserie chicken that I had ordered, as well as complementary KC Masterpiece barbecue sauce. I paid him the cash as well as a tip. After a few minutes, this other fellow came with the pizzas, breadsticks, and a two-liter bottle of Coke from Domino's. I paid him, both for the food and the tip.  
  
"Dinner is served," I said.  
  
And dinner was great. I was glad to eat this well, and this from the tips I earned from the bar, rather than mooching off one of my wealthy duplicates. We all talked to each other.  
  
"So you knew the professor well?" I asked.  
  
"Yes," replied Dr. Jariabek. "I met him after defecting from the Soviet Union. We would discuss various theories, including parallel universes and the Einstein-Rosen-Podolsky Bridge. Have you met him?"  
  
"I only heard about your version of Professor Arturo," I said. "He was killed a year before I reunited with Quinn. I only know what he looks like because I've met some of his duplicates."  
  
I looked at Jewel. "Are you from the same Earth that these people are?" I asked.  
  
"I'm from this Earth," she said, "from a place called Alaska. It wasn't until New Year's Eve last year that Conrad showed me the sliding generator and told us where he and his roommates came from. I actually visited these parallel worlds-with Conrad as an escort, of course."  
  
"You know, I just remember. Last month I saw another version of you appear at the MTV Movie Awards."  
  
"Yeah, Conrad told me some of my duplicates sought a singing career, including the one from his world. Did you see me on TV?"  
  
"I was there too. I was taking the place of my duplicate who was a famous actor. Well, one thing led to another, and I got involved with a princess, but it turned out okay." I looked at all of them and addressed them. "You know, you remind me of what it was like when I was sliding with my friends. You all looking out for each other, having your backs, wondering if you'll ever get home. Someday, the kromaggs will be driven from your world, and you will return. Until then, you have each other."  
  
"Hey," said Steven Jensen, "we do have each other. We should toast."  
  
And we did.  
  
I decided to watch TV for the night. I preferred watching TV here rather at the tenement in Daly City, because there is no television in my temporary apartment, cable or otherwise.   
  
There was of course more news about the 2000 presidential campaign. President Sam Nunn visited North Carolina for a fund-raiser. In the race for the Republican nomination, I heard news about some fellow from Texas named George W. Bush who was the governor there. News commentators commented on the campaign, stating that the Time-CNN poll showed that President Nunn had an approval rating in the mid fifties, and pointing out it is difficult to unseat an incumbent whose approval rating is in that range.   
  
"Unless Sam Nunn gets mixed up in some major scandal," said a Republican political commentator, "he will be re-elected in November. The best thing the Republican candidates can do is build up a voter base so they can run in 2004, when Nunn is ineligible. It should be remembered that Nunn ran for the Democratic nomination in 1992 when Bob Dole was running for re-election. Nunn did not get the nomination and Dole was re-elected, but in 1996 when Dole was forced out because of term limits, Nunn carried the nomonation and then the presidency. But anything can happen; the political climate can change in weeks."  
  
All these news about political campaigns reminded me of similar stuff at home. I did not have television back then, but there were newspapers and leaflets. I remember John van de Kamp holding a campaign rally in El Segundo back in 1994, just a month or so before he was elected Governor of California.   
  
"I guess you're into politics," said Diana Davis as she sat down on the couch in the den.  
  
"Well, there is an election campaign going on right now," I said.   
  
"Politics seem to be the same here as on my world."  
  
"I was wondering. Were you from San Francisco?"  
  
"No, I lived in Los Angeles for almost all of my life. I only moved to the Bay Area when the government offered me a six figure salary plus a housing allowance. Real estate in the Bay Area is awfully expensive, you know. Still, I made sure to fly down to Los Angeles at least once a month to visit my family. I last saw them on the Fourth of July weekend in 1997. At least this world shares Independence Day with my world."  
  
"There was no Independence Day in the world I grew up in," I said. "The colonies were granted independence peacefully. Britain got into a war with Prussia back in the nineteenth century, and they pulled out of the American colonies."  
  
"Well, I don't know if I'll ever see my family again. I don't even know if they're still alive, or if they were taken to another Earth."  
  
"Do you intend to go back once the kromaggs leave?"  
  
"Yes. It is my home. I really don't have anything here. My duplicate lives in Los Angeles, as does her family. She chose a different path, though.She was in real estate."  
  
"Did you meet her?" I asked.  
  
"Maggie checked up on her. She's the only one of us who could, since we know her duplicate's dead."  
  
"Did you know Rembrandt Brown and Wade Welles?"  
  
"Not very well. I met them once, after they returned from their three-year absence. I was focused on the research. Maggie was the one who kept in touch with them until the attack."  
  
I heard the doorbell ring.   
  
"I'll answer that," said Diana. She got up to answer the front door; I got up and stood below an arch to see."  
  
She answered the door and a tall lady in black jacket. she showed Diana something. I took a look and I noticed she had long brown hair and looked like that girl who did Noxzema commercials; perhaps she was a duplicate.   
  
She entered the house, and was followed by some men with shotguns. I noticed they wore jackets with the letters BSFA on the back. They walked up the stairs.   
  
"what was that?" I asked.  
  
"They're federal agents," said Diana. "They're serving a warrant."  
  
"On whom?"  
  
Then I saw whom those federal agents were serving the warrant on. They were both covered in blankets.  
  
I saw Conrad and Jewel being arrested by the federal agents. 


	3. Bureau of Sex and Family Affairs

I went to Walnut Creek the next day, after my shift was over. I was wondering why Conrad and Jewel had been arrested by federal agents. After a few minutes on the BART train and a few more minutes on the bus, I reached the refugees' house. I rang the doorbell; Vladimir Jariabek answered.  
  
"Hello," he said in his Russian accent.   
  
"Is Conrad here?" I asked.  
  
"He is."  
  
I entered the house and went to the living room next to the main hall. I then saw Conrad come down.  
  
"I saw you being arrested," I said. "Would you mind telling me what that was about?"  
  
"It's no big deal," he said. "I just got into some minor trouble with the law, that's all."  
  
"Maybe they were looking for your duplicate," I suggested. "I was once put in prison for a crime my duplicate committed."  
  
"He lives in Florida. My duplicate lives in Florida. And he shaves his head and has a nose ring."  
  
"Did you hire an attorney?"  
  
"Yeah, just as soon as I was booked in jail. Some guy named Ross Kelly. He appears on TV commercials here, as his counterpart did on my world."  
  
"I might have heard of him," I said.   
  
I heard the doorbell ring, and Conrad answered the front door. I saw Jewel come in and embrace him. They spoke for a while.  
  
"Hi," I said to Jewel. "I was wondering what all that business was with those federal agents."  
  
Jewel put her arm around Conrad's shoudler. "We were arrested by the BSFA for having a...well...a personal moment together without registering."  
  
I had an idea of what she was talking about. "You mean it's illegal? That doesn't make sense. I mean, how do couples have children if that is illegal?"  
  
"It's not illegal, Colin. The BSFA requires couples to register. We have to appear in San Francisco Federal Court on February 14-Valentine's Day. We might not even be able to see each other after that."  
  
"Tell me what letters were those?"  
  
"BSFA."  
  
"I'm going to do some research on the BSFA." With that, I went to the study. No one was using the Power Macintosh G4 in there, so I used Netscape to browse the web. It led me to the BSFA web site, which was http://www.bsfa.gov.  
  
I spent over two hours researching the BSFA and its organization and its history. Afterwards, I came down. Conrad and Jewel were in the kitchen.  
  
"Hey guys," I said. "I was looking into this BSFA business, and well, I learned a lot about it and a little bit of American history."  
  
"Tell me about the BSFA," said Conrad as he sipped a Pepsi.  
  
"Well, the BSFA regulates dating, sex, marriage, and family."  
  
"You mean the feds regulate our private lives?" asked Conrad.  
  
"BSFA stands for Bureau of Sex and Family Affairs. It was founded in 1974, and operates under the Department of Justice. The current director is Larry Flynt."  
  
"You mean the pornographer?"  
  
"Pornographer?"  
  
"Well, my world's Larry Flynt published Hustler magazine. No version of that magazine exists here."  
  
I looked at the Web pages I printed. "The BSFA headquarters is in Washington, D.C., and there are field offices for each federal court district. They maintain records on dating and sex and marriage and they investigate violations of the law."  
  
"And they arrest people. But why would lawmakers want to regulate what goes on in our homes?"  
  
"It has to do with the Nixon assassination."  
  
"I know about that," said Jewel. "I was born a year later."  
  
"Well, you see, the guy who shot President Nixon was not gunning for him. He was gunning for a hotel worker who was his estranged wife. She was a cocktail waitress who caught his eye. He was rich and handsome. Soon, they got married and had kids. But it was during their marriage that he revealed the kind of man he truly was. He would often cheat on her. When she confronted him, he hit her. He continued a pattern of physical and sexual abuse to keep her and the kids in line. Finally, she left him and took the kids with her. But he would not let her go. She got a job in a hotel, and worked as a waitress while getting an education. But he tracked her down to her workplace. He booked a hotel room there, and he brought a gun. He intended to murder her."  
  
"So what happened next?" asked Conrad.  
  
"The day he planned to murder her was the same day that President Nixon was to have a Republican fundraising luncheon in the hotel. His wife arrived at the hotel in the morning, earlier than her usual time. She was assigned to the luncheon, so she had to check in with the Secret Service. The husband did not know of the President coming here, although he was suspicious of the security. And it was a coincidence that allowed an event that shook the whole world to happen.  
  
"The husband was having coffee in the coffeeshop, just to look for his wife. He caught sight of her and looked right at her. He yelled and opened fire at her. President Nixon was just walking into the lobby with his guards when those shots were fired. A stray bullet hit Nixon and he was rushed to the hospital where he was pronounced dead."  
  
"I think I read about that," said Conrad. "But I don't understand how that led to the creation of the BSFA."  
  
"Well, reporters eventually uncovered the background of the Nixon assassination. It shocked the American people as well as Congress that a man who did not want his wife to live without him ended up killing the President. Time, Newsweek, U.S. News and World Report did special reports on domestic violence. They ran stories about innocent people caught in the crossfire of a domsetic dispute. They ran stories about studied which claimed that most violent criminals had been abused as children. Columnists pointed out that bad relationships affect more than the people in them; outsiders may be hurt or even killed like President Nixon. This created a public outcry for government regulation of dating. Congress overwhelmingly passed the Sex and Family Control Act which required couples to register and report all their activities and created an agency to enforce these laws. President Spiro Agnew signed the bill into law, saying that Americans will now be safe from violent relationships."  
  
"You mean that the reason we were arrested is because some guy accidentally shot the President while trying to kill the wife he used to beat?" asked Jewel.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, whom I date is none of the government's business," said Jewel. "I shouldn't have to fill out a form just to be with someone."  
  
"You do, Jewel," I said. "It's the law."  
  
"Listen, Jewel," said Conrad. "We can slide to another universe. We can do our dating there."  
  
"We shouldn't have to do this, Conrad. I don't know about your world, but here black people were once made to sit in the back of the bus. Some lady named Rosa Parks did not want to sit in the back. She was arrested, and Martin Luther King got involved, and there was a boycott abnd it led to the civil rights movement."  
  
"It happened that way on my world," said Conrad.   
  
I decided to interject. "In my travels," I said, "I learned that a few courageous people can change the world for the better. I know that you are not from this world, Conrad, but you can make a difference here."  
  
"Yes," said Jewel. "Let's make a difference."  
  
The court hearing was on Monday. From what I read about federal trial procedures, the prosecutor must present formal charges at the arraignment. After formal charges are announced, the accused may enter a plea. The prosecution and defense may also make any pretrial petitions. Anyway, the hearing took place in the federal courthouse located in downtown San Francisco. The judges of the central district of California hear cases here, as well as the judges from the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals.  
  
The refugees and I all decided to be present for Conrad's arraignment. We were all checked by security at the lobby of the federal courthouse. A sign read that all weapons must be checked with security. Anyway, we all went in. We got into an elevator and went to the second floor. From the elevator, we walked to the courtroom where the arraignment was to take place. I noticed it was another version of a courtroom where I had been tried, convicted, and sentenced to death for crimes against the Aryan race eight months ago.  
  
We sat in the courtroom. The only other people present were a court clerk and a U.S. marshal.  
  
After that, we saw some people enter the courtroom, all dressed in suits. One of them was the prosecutor. I recognized the defense attorney, Ross J. Kelly, from the TV commercials I seen of him. Conrad and Jewel were there as well, all dressed in suits.   
  
I then noticed another witness to these proceedings. She was the federal agent who had arrested Conrad and Jewel.   
  
The bailiff then told us to rise and announced that the judge is in the chamber. I saw the judge in his black robe.   
  
"Does the people have any charges to present to this court?" asked the judge.  
  
"Yes, your Honor," said the prosecutor. "Defendants Benjamin Conrad and Jewel Kilcher are charged with violating Title 13 Section 202 of the United States Code, which is refusal to register as a sexually active couple, and with violating Title 13 Section 203 which is refusal to report sexual activity, and Title 13 Section 207, which is unlawful sexual activity."  
  
"How do defendants Conrad and Kilcher plead?" asked the judge.   
  
"At this time, my clients will plead not guilty," said Ross Kelly.   
  
"Very well," said the judge. "You may enter into a plea bargain with the prosecutor at any time prior to the case being sent to the trial jury. The people must seek an indictment from the grand jury within ninety court days, which would be May 22 of this year, or the charges will be dropped and bail will be remanded to the defendants. Now, you may make any pretrial petitions."  
  
"Yes," said the prosecutor. "The people ask for an injunction against the defendants, prohibiting them from having contact with each other except when consulting with their counsel, and prohibiting them from having any sexual contact with anyone."  
  
"Your Honor," said Ross Kelly, "I object to this petition. My clients have not been convicted of any crime."  
  
"Restrictions on liberty to guarantee appearance at trial is within the Constitution," said the judge. "I shall grant the people's motion, and the injunction will stand until bail is remanded. Failure for the defendants to comply with the injunction shall result in forfeiture of bail and remandation to federal cutody. Any more petitions?"  
  
"None at this time, your Honor," said Ross J. Kelly. "But I intend to appeal your injunction."  
  
"As is your right, counsel, although in my opinion, the Ninth Circuit will uphold by ruling."  
  
"Very well. The people have ninety days to secure an indictment; trial date will be set when an indictment is secured."  
  
And then the judge banged the gavel.  
  
"This isn't fair," said Jewel. "We're adults; we shouldn't be told whom to be with."  
  
"I mean, a judge just told me I can't have sex," said Conrad.  
  
"I haven't done that in over three years," said Maggie. "And it was not because of some judge."  
  
"Well," I said as we left the court house, "At least you're not in jail. Besides, your trial is on May 22."  
  
"Actually, May 22 is the deadline for the indictment," said Wing. "And the feds will surely have an indictment. I mean, they have the evidence."  
  
"We may even have to testify before a grand jury," said Diana Davis. "This will complicate things, since most of us have living duplicates on this Earth."  
  
I certainly felt for Conrad. I've been on the receiving end of injustice more than once. But maybe there was something I can do.   
  
I went into the Starbucks coffee shop in downtown San Francisco. I ordered a coffee and sat down on a seat. Across from me was the woman who had arrested Conrad and Jewel, reading the San Francisco Chronicle. This coffee shop was a relaxing, comfortable place, with wooden furniture. This particular Starbucks was close to the federal building where the regional BSFA office is located.   
  
Well, it looked like I'd have to make contact. "Hello," I said.  
  
"Hi," she said. She looked at me, and she clearly was comfortable talking to me. "May I help you?"  
  
"Well, I'm sort of new here. My name is Colin."  
  
"Natalie," she said. "My name is Natalie."  
  
My mind churned, thinking of what else to say. "You look like that girl that did those Noxzema commercials."  
  
"Oh really," she said. "That's interesting, considering that she's blonde."  
  
"Are you working?"  
  
"I'm on a lunch break. I have coffee and donuts here."  
  
"Where do you work?"  
  
"I am an agent for the BSFA. You know, the people whom you report dating and family stuff to."  
  
"Interesting job. I tend bar at a sports bar. It's only temporary though. I'm a transient and I move from place to place. I just decided to visit San Francisco since I was born here."  
  
"Why would you want to be a transient?"  
  
"I'm just trying to figure out what to do, that's all. There is no greater teacher than life experience."  
  
"Interesting philosophy."  
  
"Listen, I was hoping I could see you again. Maybe we could go to a nightclub or something."  
  
"You mean a date?" she asked. "We would need to fill out a form."  
  
"No, how about if we just meet as friends."  
  
"Well, that will cut down on the paperwork."  
  
So that is what we did. We met in a nightclub in San Francisco. Natalie was the one who made the recommendation, since I was not familiar with this version of San Francisco and might end up going to a queer nightclub if I simply looked through the Yellow pages and picked a spot. The cover charge was only five dollars, much less than what I earn in tips from my temporary job.   
  
Natalie and I waited in the line. After a short wait, we paid the cover charge and went inside. The place was huge, with at least half a dozen dance floors and flashing lights. Along the sides were sofas where people can sit. I noted that there were BSFA couple registration forms located near the entrance.   
  
I sat at one of the bars with Natalie. We ordered Coronas.   
  
"Tell me more about your job," I said.  
  
"I don't want to talk about work," she said. "Work is the last thing I want to discuss."  
  
"You don't like your work?"  
  
"Well, it has benefits. Right now, I'm not in the mood of talking about other people's sex lives."  
  
"I take it from your decision to come here that you don't have a boyfriend."  
  
"Not now," she said. She sounded bitter. "Well, let's talk about sports. Do you like the San Francisco Lions?"  
  
"I haven't had the opportunity to follow sports," I said. I remembered that in the world my brother grew up in, the Forty-Niners were San Francisco's sports team.  
  
"Well, they did win the Super Bowl last month. You must have heard of it."  
  
"I've heard of the Super Bowl." I remember that the Los Angeles Mustangs won the version of Super Bowl 2000 that I watched. "Have you observed the presidential campaign?"  
  
"I've heard of it," said Natalie, "But I don't follow politics. I hear that Sam Nunn is running for re-election."  
  
"Well, he'll probably get the Democratic nomination this year. The serious challenge is in the Republican primary. Senator Lungren from California is running, as well as that governor from Texas."  
  
"Whom do you think will win?"  
  
"Well, all I know is from what I read in newspapers and magazines. It looks like at the moment that President Nunn will be re-elected."  
  
"I'd probably vote for him this time. Well, enough chatter. Let's go dance."  
  
And so we did, on the main dance floor. I put my right arm around her waist and held her right hand while she put her left hand on my shoulder. And it was certainly fun; I forgot that I was bouncing through the dimensions.  
  
"Where did you learn to dance like that?" she asked.  
  
"El Segundo. I spent my teen years there. There was this dance hall on El Segundo Boulevard near the downtown."  
  
Natalie left the dance floor, and I followed her. She sat down on a couch along the wall. I noticed couples sitting here as well. We sat close together.  
  
"Mind if I sit on your lip?" she asked.  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
And so she did. And it certainly felt good, being in such close proximity to a warm female body.   
  
"Do we have to report this?" I asked.  
  
"We're just here as friends," she said. "Friends with benefits."  
  
"You know, it just occurred to me. Being in the BSFA, you would know who's available, and the basic details of their lives even before you meet them. It would give you an advantage in finding someone to love and someone to do."  
  
"That is one of the benefits of my job."  
  
"Did you have a boyfriend before?"  
  
"Yes, I did. He was such a total asshole, you know. Well, he won't be dating anyone in this town."  
  
"What makes you think that."  
  
"The BSFA has total discretion over who is allowed to date whom. They can even exclude someone from dating. Just a while ago, I busted an illegal couple in Walnut Creek, just east of here. The judge told them they could not date anyone until their trial. My office is monitoring them to ensure their compliance with the court."  
  
"And you use this to your advantage?"  
  
"Of course we do. We enforce the laws of the United States; it is only fitting that we benefit from it. It's part of our compensation package."  
  
I spent the rest of the night dancing and drinking until the nightclub closed. I knew what had to be done. 


	4. Blackmail

"This is interesting," said Ross J. Kelly.  
  
"Well, it's not too surprising," I said. "It doesn't surprise me at all that BSFA agents would use the positions of their office for their own personal benefit."  
  
I had gone to the office of Ross J. Kelly to tell him about my encounter with the BSFA agent Natalie the previous night. His office was in the TransAmerica pyramid in downtown San Francisco.   
  
"Tell me about yourself," said Kelly.   
  
So I did, and I told the truth.  
  
"Well, I can't put you on the witness stand with a story like that," said the lawyer. "And if it were true, you'd be long gone before the trial starts in May."  
  
"Did Conrad tell you about where he came from?"  
  
"I can neither confirm nor deny that. But this does give me a defense. If the BSFA is arbitrarily denying people the privilege to date for selfish ends, then I might have a jury consider that possibility."  
  
"How will you prove that that is what they did with Conrad and Jewel?"  
  
"I don't have to. If I can show that what you're claiming is a regular occurrence in the BSFA, then the jury would doubt the charges against my clients."  
  
Later, I met with Conrad in the bar where I work. It was not very busy, so I had time to talk to them. I served Conrad a Miller Genuine Draft.  
  
"Did you tell him where you're from?" I asked.  
  
"Yes, I did," said Conrad. "When he first heard it, he was going for an insanity plea."  
  
"I understand. A couple of months ago I ended up in prison, and I told the warden I was from another universe, and the next day I end up in a mental institution. So, have you spoken to Jewel?"  
  
"Only when meeting with our lawyer. Both of us are being monitored. I am sure they'll arrest us if they see us together."  
  
"Listen, Conrad. I'm gonna look into this matter. See if there's anyone else willing to talk."  
  
"Can you do that?"  
  
"I'm a bartender; I speak to plenty of people. I leanred more from them about this world than when I researched it at the library."  
  
"I'm glad you're willing to do that."  
  
"I'm not long for this world, Conrad. This seems like a good way to pass the time."  
  
It was time for me to act.  
  
A young lady walked into a bar and ordered a drink. I got her drink, a mixture of Smirnoff vodka and raspberry juice.  
  
"So tell me about yourself," I asked.  
  
"Huh," she said.  
  
"Well, it's not busy at the moment, and I like meeting new people."  
  
So we talked and she told me some basics about herself.  
  
"Have you ever heard of the BSFA?" I asked.  
  
"Uh, yeah, they're those guys you have to report dating to."  
  
After my shift was over, I went around to talk to women whom I've never met, hoping to see if they had any problems with the BSFA. I would offer to buy them drinks, using money I earn from tips. There was eighties music playing from a jukebox.   
  
It was then that this lady I was talking to gave me the news.   
  
"My ex-boyfriend was in the BSFA," she said. "After we broke up, he told me that I would never date in this town again."  
  
"Can he do that?"  
  
"Well, the BSFA requires couples to register before they could pursue a relationship. I've met some guys, but my applications keep getting turned down."  
  
I decided to order her a Coors Light. "Will you be willing to swear to that in a deposition?" I asked.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I'm working with the attorney Ross J. Kelly, who is working on a case involving the BSFA. If you could deliver a sworn statement, maybe he can help you."  
  
"What's his number?"  
  
I went to the corner of the bar and looked through a Pacific Bell phone book. "Here it is," I said. "I think what they are doing is wrong and you can help."  
  
The next day, I decided to pay a visit to the refugees' house in Walnut Creek. Conrad was at home, and he was putting a DVD into a Sony DVD player.  
  
"What are you watching?" I asked.  
  
"Back to the Future," he said. "It's a classic on this world as well as the one I lived on."  
  
I spent the next two hours or so watching it. Basically, it is about a teenage boy who traveled back in time from 1985 to 1955. He screws up his parents' first meeting and he gets them back together. In the end, he drives the time machine into a nuclear blast at a nuclear test site and returns to his own time.  
  
"My world's version is different," said Conrad. "For one thing, it was a lightning bolt that sent him back to the future, not a nuclear explosion."  
  
"I've seen different versions of the same movie," I said. "But only the good ones. Listen, I want to search the Internet on the computer."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"To see if there had been any complaints about the BSFA."  
  
"I'm sure there are complaints."  
  
"I ran into a couple of people last night who had dating problems because the agency would not allow them. I'm sure this phenomenom isn't limited to San Francisco."  
  
And so that is what I did. I went up to the study and turned on the Power Macintosh G4 and then opened the Netscape program which allowed me to access World Wide Web pages. And I looked for news events referring to the BSFA. I was an expert on research, as my friends and I would go to public libraries to research the worlds we visit. Conrad was standing behind me as I conducted my search.   
  
Then I had luck. I read that some lawsuits were being filed against the BSFA. There were allegations of couples being rejected because of an agent's personal reasons. In some jurisdictions like Chicago, Illinois, there was a lawsuit alleging racial discrimination, because mixed couples were often rejected.   
  
"You should save this," said Conrad. "Maybe our lawyer could use this. I wish I could call Jewel, but that would violate the court order and those BSFA guys might have a wiretap running."  
  
"I could send Jewel a message." And that is what I did.  
  
It was on February 23 that I went to the U.S. District Court in San Francisco, as a temporary aide to Ross J. Kelly, Esquire. Conrad and Jewel were with both of us.We went to a conference room where lawyers from opposing sides would meet.  
  
I saw three people come in. Two of them I did not immediately recognize-but I recognized the woman who came with the two men.  
  
and she recognized me.  
  
"Colin," she said.  
  
"You know that man?" asked one of the men.  
  
"I ran into him in a nightclub."  
  
"Colin here is a temporary aide to me," said Ross J. Kelly. "I've become busy recently and I decided to hire him for a while. And he's been very helpful."  
  
The federal prosecutor introduced us to Supervising Agent Michael Hurley and Agent Natalie Nassau.  
  
"We're willing to make a deal," said the prosecutor. "I have a lot of cases to handle, and two people who got frisky without permission is something I want to expedite quickly. The two of you can plead guilty to failure to register as a couple. You will both get probation, and you can see other people-just not each other."  
  
"That's unfair," said Jewel.  
  
"Federal court rules require full disclosure of all evidence in criminal cases," said Ross J. Kelly. "Your office was helpful in giving me the evidence for your case. I should return the favor and show you the evidence."  
  
The lawyer gave the federal prosecutor some documents and statements.  
  
"The BSFA has engaged in a pattern dfiscrimination and corruption. There are sworn affadavits from several Bay Area resaidents, and there are pending lawsuits against the agency filed in other cities like New York and Chicago."  
  
"The trial isn't about them," said the prosecutor.  
  
"Well, maybe my clients did fill out the forms but were not processed."  
  
"You can't prove that."  
  
"I don't have to. The evidence here will cast doubt."  
  
"A trial could mean prison time for your clients," said the prosecutor. "Let's just make the deal so we can all move on."  
  
"I suggest that you drop the indictment against Mr. Conrad and Miss Kilcher," said Ross J. Kelly.  
  
"This is blackmail!"  
  
"It's not blackmail," I said, inserting myself into the conversation. "We're not asking you to drop the charges or we go public with this. We're going public with this anyway."  
  
"Listen you two!" shouted Natalie. "You don't know whom you're dealing with. We have power over your lives. We could make sure you never date in this town again! We could make sure you never date in any town again!"  
  
I saw Supervising Agent Hurley look at Natalie with a glare, and she sat down.  
  
"I wonder what the jury will think if they hear that little outburst," I said.  
  
"you'll never prove it," said Natalie. "It's your word against ours."  
  
"Except that this conference room is being monitored," said Jewel. "This isn't where clients meet privately with their attorneys. There is no attorney-client privilege here, and all conversations with criminal defendants-that's me and Conrad- are recorded."  
  
"Let's make another deal," said tyhe prosecutor. "I will seek an injunction requiring the BSFA to register you two as long as you plead guilty to failing to register, which is a misdemeanor. You will be on probation for six months, and after that you're free."  
  
"Why should they do that?" asked Ross J. Kelly. "They'll be acquitted once this evidence is shown. I was a prosecutor once, and I know an unwinnable case when I see one."  
  
"Because until the matter is resolved, they are prohibited from seeing each other. They could be acquitted-but the trial might not end until fall, and they are under court order from being together. If you take my offer, they can be together this night."  
  
Conrad and Jewel looked at each other. "We'll take it," said Jewel.  
  
"I hope you won't go public with this," said Michael Hurley.  
  
"Actually, now that I've seen evidence of criminal misconduct by federal law enforcement," said the prosecutor, "I'm going to have to act. I'll send this information to the attorney general's office."  
  
"You can't be coming after us," said Natalie. "We're on the same team."  
  
"I won't," replied the prosecutor. "It will be up to the attorney general. I do recommend you get a lawyer."  
  
"I can't represent you two, since I will very likely be a witness against you," said Ross J. Kelly. "I can give you a referral."  
  
Soon after that, the plea agreement was inked by the judge and Conrad and Jewel were released. They picked up the check reimbursing their bail and they were allowed to be together.  
  
Saturday was the day I was to leave. I had quit my job, on good terms of course. I was at the refugees' house in Walnut Creek. Maggie Beckett, Angus Rickman, Wing, Diana Davis, Vladmir Jariabek, Alexander Hunt, Conrad Bennish, and Jewel Kilcher were there.  
  
I told them all about my travels, and my life in El Segundo.I heard about their lives and their world.   
  
"You know," said Wing, "the Chicago Cubs won the World Series from 1984 to 1995. On our world, they did not win since 1908."  
  
"Who won last year's World Series?" I asked.  
  
"It was the San Diego Padres," said Diana Davis. "I keep track of baseball."  
  
At about 11 P.M., it was time for me to go. I stood a good distance from them to avoid taking them with me. I checked my supplies-Doritos chips, Fritos corn chips, and a bottle of water.  
  
"Goodbye, Colin," said Conrad. "I'll never forget you."  
  
"Thank you," said Jewel. "I hope you find your brother and his friends."  
  
"I know they're alive," I said. "I have my sources."  
  
And then I was gone from this world. 


End file.
